page I.Monday, April 1 , 1991 medium II

News in Brief

Daytime Lectures Offered

Through April 10 to May 8, daytime lec- tures are available on a variety of subjects.

These lectures, the Canadian Perspectives Series are open to the general public, and all but the May 8 session are being held at Erindale College in the Council Chamber (South Building) Room 2080, beginning at 1 0:00 am. The five lectures will be featuring the following topics:

April 10, Professor John Crispo (Faculty of Management) on Canada's Competitive Challenge

April 17, Walter Pitman (Director, On- tario Institute of Studies in Education) on An Overview of the Canadian Artistic Scene

April 24, Professor Desmond Morton (Department of History) on Why We Can't Stop Talking About the Canadian Constitu- tion

May 1, James Spence, Q.C. (Treasurer for the Law Society of Upper Canada) on The Legal Profession

May 8, Professor Judith Patterson (De- partment of Geology) on A Geologists Per- spective on Global Change

Series Tickets are $20 per person (for all 5 lectures) and $7 each (the day of the lunch- eon $9). Refreshments are included in the price and the luncheon on April 24 following the presentation.

Barbecue for charity

by Aaron Polesky

And it was said, "Let there be food." And after some initial confusion, there was food, and it was good.

On Thursday March 28, the spring candidate class of the Sigma Nu fra- ternity held an all-you-can-eat bar- becue, with all proceeds donated to the Canadian Cancer Society. The gourmet feast, attended by nearly one hundred and twenty Erindale students as well as over twenty brothers of Sigma Nu, consisted of hamburgers "grilled to a crisp" by a staff of stu- dents, who one person claimed as "experts, or at least speak French."

After dinner, the participants ad- journed to the Blind Duck where sev- eral contributions to the canned food

drive were made. After all was said and done, a grand total of three hundred and fifteen dollars was raised for the Canadian Can- cer Society.

Event organizer, Richard Ashmore, was very happy with the turnout. "A lot of people see fraternities as where people go only to drink and party. Admit- tedly we do drink occasionally, but we give a great deal back to the community and I think we showed that here today."

Mr. Ashmore went on to thank those whose assistance was in- valuable, brothers James Dineen and Dean Toste. "Without their time and effort, not to mention their cars, nothing of this magni-

tude could have ever happened." He also thanked his graduate class, including Brent Johnson, Gary Samuels, Geoff Elliot, Aaron Polesky, Joe Yang, Brian Lalancette, and Jose Vasquez, all "with nicknames too long and crude to mention."

Incoming Sigma Nu Commander Kevin Skeoch said the amount raised was the largest by any can- didate class in the fourty-three year history of the Toronto chapter. Current Commander Glenn "Censored" Campell offered this statement. "Rich is the pinnacle. Rich reigns supreme. Rich is the Kingpin, he could crush us all like jellybeans." He refused to explain his comments.

The Easter Bunny and hot air

This is a column on how to say absolutely nothing, while con- versely, saying something. Philoso- phers have debated throughout the ages on the finer points of this topic, yet what do philosophers know? (Actually, I'm sure they indeed do know a lot, but I enjoy being face- tious. ) Moreover, nevertheless and therefore, the use of redundancy - or even saying the same thing twice while using different words - or even repeating one's self - is a key or primary aspect to this topic and idea.

The aspect of saying something and nothing is a large part of Cana- dian society today, and maybe even the day after that. If you care to peruse, look over, criticize or read the editorial in this issue you wiU get a clearer, in fact crystal clear (that's

alliteration you know), idea of what I mean. I would like to point out that in no way am I implying that what our Editor has to say is unimportant or largely packed with hot air, but what I am saying is in fact what I have already said.

The Flip Side

by Chris o-rama, Chrismeister, the Chris man, Chris dude, Chris.

(Debate that you Philosophy majors!)

In addition.plus, and consider- ing the fact that most of my pro- fessors will attest that my essays look substantially simile in text (if not content) to this column, it is important to mention thatEaster

will have passed by the time this column is printed.

Easter is an important holiday not only for its religious mean ings, but because of the fact that I generally get chocolate bunnies at this time. Another strange fact is that most women look forward to this holiday with anticipation, but will never reveal this fact on pain of death.

Chris Ovsenny is the News Editor who is apologising/or this week's "news" section. It was a really slow week news wise, and the one story that was supposed to come in on the new ECARA Di- rector wasn't submitted by my writer - so he will be suitably shot. Moreover, this column should really be in the joke issue.

PftESBITt

GO HARD OR GO HOI

RICHARDS 3170 ERIN MILLS PARKWAY, NORTH OF DONOAS, MIS8ISSAUGA 8281667

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PERSPECTIVE

Since 1974

STUDENTS INFORMING STUDENTS

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BOARD OF DIRECTORS

Norman Saunders Brian Proctor Tom Giohmann Jim Sahlas Gayle Pinto Jayne Frair

EDITORIAL BOARD

Editor-in-Chief Norman Saunders

Business Manager Tom Grohmann

Production Manager Caroline Albergaria

Marina Colautti Advertising Coordinator Anthony Booth

News Editor Features Editor Arts Editor Sports Editor Photography Editor Distribution Manager Copy Editor Classifieds

Chris Ovsenny

Paul Paradine

Steve Viau

Michelle Szakos

Geoff Scott

Pierre Lacoste

Darrin Griffiths

Lloyd Aning

PERSPECTIVE: Erik Twight NEWS: Jonathan Lomon, Anu Bucher, David Drew, Paul Robert ARTS: Kim Lumsden, Melanie Ellenon James Smith, Eric Schmid, Kenneth Windrim SPORTS : Jeff Smith, Paul Meyer, Dave Cassar, C. Ovsenny PHOTOGRAPHY: Erica Phillips, the file FEATURE: John Loman PROOF READERS: J. Caceies, CheU Holliday ARTWORK: Omni

Only three issues left Fuck, the year is almost gone and some of us still are learning to use the computers. Who the hell reads this? Cheli thought that all I did was to write this little blurb every week. Wouldn't that be nice. All that money for a bit of buUshiL Something like doing a Sports section every week. Crap. Caroline wants toget on this Computer. Maybe I should make her wait awhile — afew hours. Isuppose Marina doesn't takethatshitbccauseshelefthoursago. Fuck, the epitome of discipline. I think I'm becoming sore in my old age — that's bad.

STAFF MEETINC;. TUESDAY, APRIL 2; 5:00 PM

medium^ II EDITOR-IN-CHIEF

ELECTIONS

Tuesday, April 2, 1991 Rm. F18, Crossroads Building

10 a.m. to 4 p.m.

The individuals listed in the box below are eligible to vote in the medium II elections.

medium II elections

Get closer to God. Be a member of next year's Editorial Board

or Board of Directors. The following positions are open:

• Editor-in-Chief

• Production Manager

• Business Manager

• News Editor

• Advertising Coordinator

• Features Editor

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• Spwrts Editor

• Arts Editor

• Board of Directors (four places)

Individuals interested in section editor positions should submit the cover letters and resumes by April 4th. A forum for those positions will be held on April 5th. Board of Director nominations close at the same time as section editor positions. There are four student positions on the Board of Directors.

EDITORIAL

A striking success

The leaders of the T. A. strike declared it a success. Even though the T. A.s did not get all the money they asked for T.A. leaders say that they are happy because they got concessions that benefit the quality of education at U of T.

Their achievement is a committee comprised of T.A. and administrative members who will review quality of education on campus. But the real value of the committee, T.A. leaders say, is that grievances can be filed before a completed vote or without a full consensus by this body. So clearly the two- week disruption of classes by T.A.s are justified by the results of the strike.

The T.A. who was knocked down and had his leg broken now knows that it was worth it. Economic students who will struggle for the next two years because they missed two weeks of Eco 220Y should appreciate the benefits of their sacrifice. Professors who elicited disfavour from departmental heads should also be proud of their career sacrifices. And automobile collisions that occurred because of the traffic chaos was a smaU price because the grievances this committee can file will have a Huge impact on the quality of education at this university.

So hell, when the current contract expires in two years maybe the T.A.s will get an even better deal for us - and they might only cause half as much confusion.

Not living behind a veil/lifestyle

Voters of medium II

The following individuals have contributed to more than half the issues and are eligible to vote in the medium // elections. If you think you have contributed to more than half the issues please speak with Norman.

Nomian Saunders Tom Grohmann Anthony Booth Marina Colautti Caroline Albei^aria Chris Ovsenny Steve Viau Geoff Scon Uoyd Aning

Michelle Szakos Paul Paradine Pierre Lacoste Arpana Chandra Jessica Caceres Jennifer Cowan Terry McPhee Erica Phillips John Lx}man

Peter Croome Melanie Eillerton Theresa Cassidy Dave Cassar Denise Saunders David Drew Jeff Smith Erik Twight Darrin Griffiths

Dave Martin Len Hatzis Karen Kwan Paul Meyer Art Tschinkel Peler Skov

The followhig individuals need one (1) more contribution:

Rowena Ctliinin, Chni W«nichuj», Greg Boyko

The following individuals need two (2) more contributions:

John Ptnons, Tony Zekl

Does A stand for anonym- ity? What's your firstname. A? Are you not proud of it, A? Are you afraid of me looking for you to bash you? No? Then what's your first name. A?

I don't want to seem hostile but luider the circumstances, if I signed my name to my graffiti it would be more of an open invitation to have my head bashed rather than an act of pride. Besides, all the graffiti I've ever seen has been anony- mous. It's not one of those things you generally sign.

My graffiti stems from anger and simply states that we're here, and if you and the rest of the student pop. are tired of it then now you know how I feel. What about the violent retalia- tion by the homophobic (also anonymous) vandal? It takes rwo 10 tango, sweetheart.

You ask for consideration but you haven't realized yet that before homosexual -direct- action there was only the het- erosexual society determining all facets of social existence.

GUEST

COLUMN

by Sappho

This wds your 'considcrauon'. Queers remained closeted and si- lenced because of fear and the society as a whole finally got us angry enough to speak up. Now you're uptight from having to deal with years of pent up anger.

You don't imderstand that I'm not hving behind a veil; behind a Ufe- style, as you so call it. I never claimed to be afraid of anyone, let alone anti- homosexual militants. I am, how- ever, always ready for someone to attack me. How would you feel if every time you walked down a street you had to have eyes in the back of you head? So I'm not so much afraid as you might think. Youdon'tknow the shit we go through to deal with beinggay. Youdon'tknow how hard I tried to be straight because my life was being dictated by "social norms" and "if you don't conform, you won't be accepted." You try being a 13- year-old without jjeer support I'm

more proud of the fact that I finally said, No, I won't conform anymore. I'm going to be myself and if you don't like it then fuck- off." That's my pride. Proud of being really me. And I'm sick and tired of being discrintinated against for what I look like and who I love. I tried "keeping it at home" but it's the heterosexuals who drag it out of the closet to cause shit.

For educational purposes, ho- mosexuality isnotapreference, it's an orientation; and it's not some- thing one chooses, nor is one bom with it. It's difficult to "keep it at home" when it's part of yout ;ntire life. I don't suggest to anyone to wear a mask for the purpose of making others feel comfortable. It's obvious that if someone's un- comfortable with it then it'sher/his problem and the gay person should not have to suffer because of it.

So my anger upsets you. Well, I've been upset for 10 years. I'd sign my name but I don't want to be expelled from school for vandal- ism. Don't hold that against me, too.

Pseudonym: Sappho

In spirit of the other medium //'s joke issue, I have decided to donate this week's feature to bring you some of the worid's many strange but true stories. All of the below, however weird or unbelievable, are all true. So here we go...

THE DEVIL MADE HER DO IT

They had a hell of a time

When a nun and a priest fall in love, what's to be done? Well, in this case, the nun underwent an exorcism to get rid of the devil that was forcing her to have sex. The French nun and priest were having sex for several months before the nun decided to blame it on Satan. She went through an agonising exorcism - one that would have put Linda Blair to shame - including writhing on the floor and screaming insults at the priest performing the rite. When it was over, she was cured. "After the exorcism, I felt empty," she recalls. "But I also felt pure again." (News Extra).

WOMAN WEDS GIRAFFE

Gives a whole new meaning to necking

What do you do when your fiance dies? Well, if you're lucky, you'll find out his soul has entered the body of a 16-foot tall giraffe named Lucky and you'll still get married. Our story began when an Italian woman took a trip to the zoo and noticed a giraffe staring at her. "It's eyeas were large and soft, just as my fiance's had been," recalls the bride. "It looked at me with such understanding and pity. I knew immediately that this was more than an animal 's gaze - 1 knew it was my fiance come back to me in another form." So the gal bought the giraffe and married it in her father' s bam in front of 200 guests. Says a guest from the human side of the family, "I hope this doesn't ruin her socially. She's always been popular, but people are beginning to wonder. I mean, who wants the wife of a giraffe at their dinner party?" (Weekly World News).

GAY SHEEP

Now we know what virgin wool is

A good percentage of male sheep are gay, it seems, and most are not getting enough. "The problem for homosexual sheep is that it ' s difficult to fing another male who will stand still," explains a doctoral student at a federal agricultural facility. "If there is a ram that is hurt or caught in a fence, then they can mount him, but otherwise there are so few receivers that it becomes difficult for homosexuals to express themselves." What about the few males that don't mind being on the bottom? "They tolerate it," says the doctoral candidate. "They may have been the wimps that got beat up so much that it was easier to tolerate than anything else." (Pittsburgh Out).

VEGGIE EATING MOM GIVES BIRTH TO GREEN BABY

Or maybe her husband had a green thumb

It's always greener on the other side of the nursery. What happens when a woman eats nothing but leafy green vegetables during her nine months of pregnancy? She gives birth to a green baby, that's what! At least that's what happened to this Mexican mama, who ate the green vegetables on the order of her physician. "My doctor told me it would be healthy for my child," she says. "Look what it did to my poor baby. He has become a spectacle in the hospital and too the world. People come by to get a look at him and all the nurses are laughing at him. What's going to happen when he gets older? All the children will be picking on him because he's so green." Docs believe that the vegetables had caused a chemical reaction inside the woman's body. (Sun).

EXCLUSIVE : INTERVIEW WITH SATAN

A Spanish journalist says he's conducted the world's first interview with the devil. The reporter claims that he was first visited by a catholic priest, who said that the devil had possessed the body of a young man and would release him only after speaking with the press. "As soon as I agreed to conduct the interview and get it published, Satan appeared at my house," the journalist recalls. "He smelled so bad I could barely breathe. And he looked just like a human corpse." Their hour-long conversation contained the following gems : "I want the world, and I will have it. It is mine... The Creator is defeated now, and his annihilation is everywhere ... I will crush your hope

THE CAREER CEN

91GRADS: Ontario Government Career Oppoituniticsj

For wcMnen, aboriginals, racial minorities, disabled and francophones.

Deadline to Apply: April 22. 1991

Salary: $32,000 yr.

88 different job descriptions including ....

Victim Witness Trainee Human Resources Trainees Financial Officer/Analyst Policy & Planning Analyst Community Programs Analyst Audit Trainee

Hydrogeological Technician Pesticides Officer Toxicologist Staff Relations Officer Pension Officer Property Manager

Jr. Policy Analyst Business Analyst Jr. Economist Research & Stat Analyst Fish, Forest & WUdlifc Tech. Conservation Officer Geog. Info. Systems Trainee Land Use Planning Mineral Commodity Analyst Programmer Analyst Building Code Advisor etc. etc.

Complete Job Descriptions & Application Details at the Career Centre

TRE THIS WEEK

Career Interest Tests ...

"While career interest tests arc widely available, they are not particularly good predictors ofcareerchoice and satisfaction. Your assessment of yourself will be far more powerful and predictive than standardized testing."

Howard Rgler Ph J>, Educational Research & Testing

Note: Let The Career Centre help you with this assessment process.

Summer Jobs!

The Erindale Career Centre will list summer fulltime and part-time jobs ONLY until April 26. 1991.

Make the most of the next few weeks by coming in at least once a week.

Interested in Ontario Govt summer iobs? Send resumes and application letters now - use last summer's opp's as a guide. Mosdy minimum wage $5.40 hr. but GREAT experience!!

and replace it with pain and despair. I will make your existence a thousand times worse than the blackest moments of your lives. There is nothing you can do to stop me." (Weekly World News).

THE TWO FACES OF FRANCINE

A young French woman has two faces, side by side, sharing her head. Doctors explain her one-in-a-billion birth defect as a mutation of Siamese twins bom with one body and two faces. Her brain combines the images from all four eyes, giving her 270-degree vision. "The odd thing is, I can make my faces do different things at once, everything except speak," says the woman, Francine M. "Strangers can't cope. They hate looking me in the eye because they don'tknow which one to choose." As a child, she stayed home from school and would cover her faces with a hood. "People are cruel - they ask me whether I argue with myself," she explains. "But it's not like that, I have one brain." When her mother first saw her, "Mama thaought she had sinned and begged the nurses to keep me a secret." She had wanted to drown the infant, believing it was God's punishment for an affair she'd had with a car mechanic. (Sun).

ONION SHRIEKS UNDER KNIFE

It brings tears to your eyes

A former vegetarian has sworn that he' II never eat vegetables again after he cut into a Spanish onion and heard it scream. "They feel pain just like we do," the West German psychic researcher told reporters. "When I sliced the onion, the scream said it all. The onion was in agony. It was crying out for mercy. It was as if I had cut a human or an animal to the bone." The man had been conducting biofeedback experiments in his Duren laboratory, cutting into hundreds of other vegetables to register their response, when he first heard the onion's cries. "I felt like a fiend," he recalls. Although some believe that the scientists research was improperly conducted, one Frankfurt geneticist tends to differ : "Study after study has indicated that vegetation has at least some capacity for feeling pain. His research is not the first to say that a vegetable not only feels pain, but can respond to it."

MARRIED 21 TIMES AND COUNTING

A 48-year-old grandmother who has wed 15 different men - one man three times and four men twice - will be listed in the 1991 Guiness Book of World Records as the most married woman in the world. "I've been married 21 times," says Linda Essex. "I've spent my life looking for the perfect husband, and I'm still looking!"Her shortest marriage lasted one and a half days, her longest, six years. "I've been the wife of a tavern-band singer, a mechanic, a carpenter, a barroom bouncer, a prison inmate, a homosexual, addicts, a con man, a wealthy man, and poor men," she says. "The only thing I was asking for was someone to love me," adds Linda, who has seven children, ages 15 to 30, and thirteen grandchildren. "I wanted what other women had. Then - pow! - something would come up and I'd say, "Well, maybe next time, next man." (World News).

More details at the Career Centre, Rm. 3094, S. Bldg.

A ROLL IN THE HAY

A 39-year-old Austrian male has been "married" to his horse for the past ten years. The illegitimate son of a poor family, he attended reform schools, living a lonely existence. He met the horse of his dreams while roaming the countryside, and it was love at first sight. "She was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen," he recalls. "No woman ever tmned me on like that." He took the animal to a horse farm, where he kept her in his living quarters and taught her to follow all of his commands. He's since found a human love interest, and although the horse is jealous, he's not concerned. "Most guys shack up with a girl, but this fellow really shacked up with that horse," says one local resident. "They eat and sleep together - they're with each other all of the time. They love each other so much that they may as well be married."

MEMO TO DR. RUTH

As shocking as it seems, according to a recent study, 30 percent of the women and about half of the men about to be married could not answer the following four basic questions: What do the genital organs of the opposite sex look like? What is one position for sex? What is a female orgasm? Does ejaculation harm a man?

medium II

page 6 , Monday, April 1, 1991, medium II

What^s On

At Erindale:

Blind Duck Pub- This week at the Duck is the year end Rowers pub, on Friday March 5th. All are wel- come, so come meet the maniacs who get up every day at 5 in the morning to row for Erindale.

Erindale Theatre- The Drama Club of Erindale presents Theatrefest, an evening of one-act plays, April 4th through 6th. Tickets are $4 in advance, $5 at the door, and $7 for non-students.

Elsewhere:

Massey Hall- Virtuoso jazz singer and pianist Harry Connick Jr. brings his inovative stylings to Toronto April 14th. Just 23, he is already becoming a legend in the jazz field, introducing a whole new generation of listeners to the music of their grand- parents.

Art Gallery of Ontario- To celebrate the dona- tion of a special Inuit art collection, the AGO presents Sananguaq - The Swinton Collection of Inuit Art from March 27 to May 26, in the Walter Trier Gallery. Sananguaq is an Inuktitut word meaning "making an imitation or likeness", and this display draws from over 371 Inuit works of art that represent more than 200 artists from across the Arctic.

St. Lawrence Centre Forum- The National Film Board presents a screening of Between Two Worlds, an insightful portrayal of Inuit legend Joseph Idlout, on April 3rd at 8.00. This noble man, who appeared on the back of our two doUar bills, fought desperately, although in vain, to both succeed in the white mans world, and to salvage his own way of hfe.

Ministry of Colleges and Universities

Ontario

Student

Assistance

Program

1991-92

OSAP application forms for the 1991 -92 academic year will soon be available at your financial aid office.

The OSAP application form allows you to apply for:

• Canada Student Loan

• Ontario Student Loan

• Ontario Study Grant

For additional infomiation contact your financial aid administrator.

Apply Early!

arts

The Sisters of Mercy - The Lure of the Enigma

The Sisters of Mercy

Massey Hall

Tuesday March 26th

Sold Out

by Melanie Ellerton

Gaucheness and rawness un- der a slick facade. Yes, it's Andrew Eldritch, gazing out from behind the haze of white smoke that has suddenly con- sumed the stage, his face pinched by an ear to ear grin. Yes, we watch anxiously as he looks back to the boys in the band and laughs with disbelief. It's incredible. On their first North American tour in more than 5 years. The Sisters of Mercy are greeted with a full house of howling fans. And rightly so, as Eldritch has never so much played the visionary as worked hard at it

It was all there on Tuesday night. The blindingly bright chromed lights that stabbed out

of the dry ice, the megalomanic magnetism of a slightly sar- donic Eldritch who continually jutted across the stage, and of course, the bitter, unearthy howls of rage and romance which greedily grabbed hold of the crowd and pulled us in.

Only Morrissey has ever cul- tivated a persona to the same extent as Eldritch, but there is a vital difference between the two. While Morrissey has established a career on what he doesn't do - he doesn't drink, he doesn't smoke, he doesn't eat meat, he doesn't have sex and he doesn't like the Government, Eldritch has built a career on what he's done.

Bom in London, Eldritch at- tended Oxford University briefly, moved to Leeds and started up The Sisters of Mercy in 1981, got very ill from too many drugs and too much alco- hol, and then was thrown into a

medium II

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applications for the

oh SO fun position of

ARTS EDITOR

Please submit a resume and covering letter

explaining why you would be interested in the job by

April 4th. There will be a forum on April 5th.

lingering legal battle when the rest of his band tried to become The Sisterhood. (They later became The Mission after El- dritch won the wrangle.) Shortly afterwards. Eldritch moved to Hamburg where he released Floodland (which has to be one of the best albums of the 80's), and again in 1990, he released a third album. Vision Thing.

Eldritch has always claimed that he doesn't make music for money or for fame, but to exert control, to be the master of his immediate environment But somewhere along the line. El- dritch lost that control, as most of The Sister's frothy tunes and meandering ballads just didn't make the final connection be- tween the artist and the audience.

Maybe it was the venue, for Massey Hall was like an epony- mous sea which sometimes swallowed up The Sister's weird and often intangible fog of mu- sical layers before they could reach shore and be consumed by the fans.

Like I said, all the elements were there. It was a typical gothic show performed by the gothic band, and I can ' t help but think that if they had played at the Concert Hall or at RPM where fans can line up along the stage. Eldritch would have been totally intoxicating, and his ethereal mysticism would not have been dissipated.

E A

rindale

nvironmental

ssociation

Last meeting, 6:(X)-7:30pm, Colman Place.

Election for next year's executive. If

necessary ballots will also be take in the

Meeting Place on Wednesday April 3rd,

10:00am-2:(X)pm

Erindale Varsity •j ^ V Christian Fellowship / ^

^ 1 Club Co-ed Volleyball Challenge S fc/

ISi/ Wednesday, April 3, 5:00pm \|^|

iPf Erindale Gym JA\

I 1 I See you on the courts! I / •

■ R.S.V.P. to Rob at 844-6772 '

Radio Erindale is accepting applications ton

•Business Manager J,^

(no applications received)

•Production Manager and Tectinical Director (only 1 application received for each)

Application foims available at Radio Erindale Deadline tar applications Is April 4, 9:00pm.

[Editor * Steve Viau Photography * Geoff Scott Typesetting * Michelle Szakos, Nancy Bilodeau, Chris Ovsenny.

Ito annual

Xittti

PBYCHEDELIC MONDAY

I was served up promptly on the Queen's silver-plated platter, my head resting in a pool of red blood, my fingers and toes sitting on the side, my intestines basted in saliva, and my testicles nestled in a pool of semen by the edge of the platter, to be no doubt savoured at the end of this splendid meal.

No one had ever told me it would come to this. I mean, I had entered the Queen's service like all the other hopeful, bright-eyed, intelligent, sexually frustrated young men; hoping for a better future, a break, or at least a little fun. How was I to know it would lead to this? Do I look like a philosopher? I barely thought about the whole thing.

I should have known something was wrong the day I was interviewed by the Queen's Minister - 1 think he was Minister of Adminis- tration, or better yet. Human Resources., .or was it Baked Beans? Anyway, the Minister looked at me with something between fear, dread, and inspiration, and said "you 're exactly what we 're looking for!" I was so stupid, I was ecstatic. Of course, I now know what he really meant.

We're looking for a few good men...

And they had us too, holed up in an ancient

government building called Pisslake House, or something like that, in a series of dormitories and offices that were shrewdly designed to prevent us all from social interaction, strategic planning, and post-trauma syndrome. Every morning we were dragged from our dorms, forced to listen to Violent Femmes records, and given instructions for our daily exercise on the bureaucratic obstacle course: creating bottle- necks, inventing stories, and evading taxes while suspended from file cabinets by our toes. The reverend Minister, of course, made it worse by occasionally opening the drawers, inevitably causing one of us to fall, or worse yet, to bring the whole thing down with his weight.

It was during one of these afternoons that I discovered a plot to overthrow the Minister. One of my buddies announced placidly that it was my turn to sleep with the Deputy Minister, who was also the Queen's illegitimate step- daughter. "This isn't for fun, you understand, man" my colleague whispered, "this is purely a business arrangement. To find out all we can y'know." Of course.

"About what?"

"You know. The plan. The plot. The Grand Design." I stared at him, bewildered - sort of like I'd been all my life. "We're knocking off the Minman, y'dig?" he continued impatientiy.

If the mutant Deputy Minister was physically a little odd, mentally she was more challenging than a Rubik's cube. Our conversation went something like this:

"Is the Minister any good in bed?" I thought I'd approach the topic from a tangent.

"Minman.. .an asshole..."

^ppUmetit

"In what way?"

"Paper shredder....wastebasket...car keys in top drawer..."

"What's that supposed to mean?'

"Everyone's a critic. The weak shall in- herit the Ministry, the strong shall take Al- giers."

"Are you leading me on?"

"On the roof, in the cellar. Dancing in a dance club."

"What's on the roof? What's in the..."

"In the beginning there was the word. And the word was Skinny Puppy. And everyone was crazy."

And so on. It was probably because she was such a fascinating conversationalist that I didn't notice the Minister's face peering from behind the door. When he could finally hold his mild-mannered self back no longer, he began to speak, rather indirectly, of what he though of me:

"Traitor. Traitor. Traitor. TRAITOR! Traitor."

The Deputy Minister slipped away from me, grabbed her clothes, and ran from the room, crying... or probably laughing. Sud- denly the room was filled with my comrades from the Ministry, who joined the Minister's chorus: "Traitor! Wimp! Nerd! Liberal! Sell-out!"

Their chants continued, softly now, as the Minister, suddenly wearing a white curly

wig, began the deliberations. "Where were you on the night of February 28th, i.e. to- night?"

"Uh, here, your Lordship," I replied qui- etly.

"And what do you know of the Ministry's state secrets?"

"Nothing, sir."

"You dare deny that you know the location of the fake car keys that open the secret cache of papers in the bottom of the wastebasket full of shredded paper? The plot to take over nightclubs in North Africa? The psycho- logical experiments going on in various parts of the Ministry involving cerebral response to musical tones?"

"What?...uh...well, um, no, .not really."

"What do you mean, not really? Do you realize that my Lordship could be stripped of my pension if these facts were exposed?"

"No...well, I guess. ..but I didn't really understand...look, I told you, I know noth- ing."

The Minister rolled his eyes in disgust. He looked at the young bureaucrats. "HE DIDN'T UNDERSTAND. HE KNOWS NOTHING. Do we believe this?"

"NO!"

"He knows everything, does he not?"

"HE KNOWS EVERYTHING. HE KNOWS EVERYTHING. HE KNOWS EVERYTHING."

"SHUT UP! Now. I shall pass sentence on this young man who knows too much... AH! I've got it. Yes, we'll give him the most extreme punishment available; he shall party 'till he drops."

"Party 'till you drop! Party 'till you drop! Party 'till..."

"SHUT UP! You," he said to the innocent faced guy who'd got me into this mess in the

first place, "go get everything we need. Ex- ecution of sentence shall begin in one hour."

And they led me, ball-and-chain style, to a cold holding room, the guys chanting "PARTY!" all the time. For an hour I sat on the cold floor, wide-eyed, confused, and just a little bit excited, playing with the broken pa- per-shredder they'd left with me. Finally the Minister appeared, now wearing a Hawaiian shirt, jeans, and a black face mask. "No final meal for you," he declared, "we want you on an empty stomach, understand?"

He led me to the main office, which had taken on the appearance of a scientific labora- tory, with vials, ring stands, vapours, chemi- cal stains, all that stuff. I was let free, given an incredible volume of bubbling liquid, and pushed to the centre of the crowd. Then it all began: lights, music, movement, dance, laughter, noise, words, words, words.

Words everywhere, but I didn't care at all. I'm not sure at what point I stopped thinking. All I know is that things started spinning, people and sounds and words all melted. Dancing, dancing, dancing, faster, faster, faster, move! Things were speeded, passion- ate, loose. They yelled:

"Party 'till you drop!"

Drink. Drink. Drink. More.

"Party 'till you drop!"

Push. Pull. Thrust. Fall.

"Party 'till you drop!"

Smash. Smash. Open. Open. Go to heaven! Go to heaven! Go to heaven!

"Party 'till you drop!"

I dropped. The music stopped, the noise stopped, the movement came to a grinding halt. The overhead lights came on, the office reappeared as usual; and the Minister, dressed now in his protocol robes, led a convoy of pious, loyal subjects to the Queen's court. I, of course, was on the silver platter, to be sacrificed to Her Majesty. You know the rest of the gory details, of course.

So now as the Queen prepares to devour my remains, why do I feel so funny? Why is it that I'm staring up at her with such a dopey, unquestionably happy grin? And why can't I stop laughing? There's only one thing I know for sure. Like I said before, I know nothing!

page 111

layed awake dreaming of sleep or a Russian town witt^ valleys deep Karl and I were discussing Religion He said the subject was too intense and that we should smoke some opiate of the people.

I saw a million Trotsky's

Stalin murdered regardless of pleas.

The opiate then reached my inner soul

where I saw nothing

except a poor, hungry, sore-infested man

praising the lord.

He was Job and unemployed

yet God and Marx were not annoyed

Trotsky's dead, Stalin is red

Religion and I live in a world of dread.

by Heather Muir

THE CITY

Seen pain. Felt anguish. Experienced torture. Forget. Sun rises, Given new days, New hope. But sunsets, We are hidden In darkness Of shadows. No one can see Smiling faces Or crying eyes. Speechless, Afraid of who Might answer. Questions remain Untouched, unscathed. We have become One of the million. Towers of strength Deplete chances Of advancement. Movement below Is frightening. Blood-curdling screams Echo in our ears. Walk beside the barrier Surrounding, Holding us prisoner. We have become One of the million Burning for freedom.

DISCOURSE discourse

relevance in question tired ears lead heavy eyes ticking anticipation blissful release more discourse...

by Steve Rye

How tormented your poor, short life must have been,

Oh champion of the Mr. Turtle pool in Wooico,

To thrust your scale'd self from Sanctity, clean

Out of your new fish bowl.

The first mishap was the kitchen sink's drain

Where you failed and gasped for air in vain

Until I scooped you out with a spoon

Narrowly escaping doom.

The next trauma, when I noticed you stuck

To the bottom of my foot

Was just bizarre. But you were in luck.

You lived through that, my fine finned friend.

Until out of the bowl you jumped one night

Marking the end

Of your nocturnal flights.

Ode TO R (FiSh

House

by Nancy Bilodeau

The Fl ighl

The strength of the textured rocks could

not shield me from the persisting Yet gentle mist that brought the

sensual smells of peace and unity within the living and non-hving. Blown from my face, swiried behind me

strew a tangled mane of brown lengths. You could feel it here. Drinking in the glorious light that is

never appreciated The blue of the powerful waves seemed

to disappear when in contact With a stronger force, the silhouettes of

strength Soon the darkness of rest will overcome this site of excitement of another day.

Human Nature

To have something you do not appreciate is

a crime in itself. To want something you simply cannot have is

called desire. What is it called, then, when you have one

thing and lust after another at the same time? Another crime, perhaps? Or human nature.

a song by Frank Falcone

Eicp-dcsd D€\cliGr

Whispers and prayers in a shallow cathedral Three-quarter stares etch him detail by detail

Man, I keep tellin' you as your bottom lip curls Opportunity's killin' you Snake's belly unfurls

Blindman's stoplight Wait for the sign Conscience shut-tight you spill the same line

Drop-dead values

an' no time for funerals

Stained-bed, have-you's

are they sure they're just doin' you?

Secure a life of sanctions blanket-covered doubt Obscure the double-standard Don't your floor fall out?

Whisper and pray vows of hollow devotion Commodity girl with a bit of emotion

Don't you worry with your penitent refrain Like a runaway child she'll only love you again

Secure a life of sanctions blanket-covered doubt Obscure the double-standard Don't your floor fall out?

Moanfbaften Revisited

You used to shave

Before we kissed,

And in the car, you used to place my

hand

Beneath yours on the gearshift.

Back then I loved late night TV.

"Bonanza or MuchMusic?" you'd ask.

Endlessly flicking the remote,

Pretending to turn me on or off-

Sometimes you did.

I haven't felt your face

Or the pressure of your hand on mine

Even Lome Greene and Erica Ehm

Are cold comforts to me now.

hy Sarab Woodruff

§>uwhutut

l«

$#^ririyai

tl^^^^f

Penetration (An Entreaty to Sylvia Platti)

by Sean Plummer

darling

delay my blankness another minute keep me from feeling that easy urge towards nothing at all towards the fall of crackling black that drags me into the vein

inject your vivid into this tired black blood which I might compare to ink if

the metaphor was not so appropriate

forget your own

death cater to

my self pity

with the needle

that denies serenity

and stupidity in

democratic doses of infection

you know I will love you forever

Promises to keep,

Uolues molested.

Time to buy,

Life is auctioned.

Eyes shed tears

Full of acid rain.

Mouths release smoke.

Smothering OKygen.

Lungs sigh.

Silent collapse.

Needles of pleasure,

Dreams of hallucination.

Sleeping through unrest.

Outside

Inside.

No contest.

No contrast.

No comparison.

Reflections of distrust,

Loue and hate.

Disgrace.

# WHERE HAS IT GONE? \ \ ty Heather Muip /

^u^|)Um$nt

Kingdisrsdcw

by Chris Ovsenny

He awoke with a brightness in his eyes. The everstreaming consciousness of colours surrounded him in a blue haze. Stars flashed across his view while a dim recollection of hallucinogens from his past surfaced across his mind. Swirling images protruded in multiple gatherings as his baser instincts attempted to gain control of his abstract body.

And then the fog lifted.

The faint buzz was the first thing to reach his consciousness - it wasn't quite an insect buzz but the insistant drone was more than a hum. A steady 'clack' became so evident that he immediately recognized it as a hard plastic sole striking a marble surface.

The sound grew closer as the buzz became ever more intense.

Something from deep in his mind recognized the 'wrongness' of this situation and identified it with the singing tone of the elevator arriving.

He was in a hospital.

The growing sound of the plastic sole shoe was joined by two others - a soft padding sound, most likely runners.

"How did I get here?" was a question now demanding an answer in his brain. Unfortunately, not much else was present at the time, as he frantically made attempts to ainswer his burning question. He reached, yet there was nothing to grab.

As the sound began to reach a crescendo, an image blasted itself to the forefront. Play dead.

As he faded from reality he thought *That won't be hard..,'

iH^*i^tf:^itfLifi^ift1flfiH.****if**tf*****'¥**if*****

Again the buzzing grabbed his mind and began shaking it to the present. His thoughts were now 'like a glass', he noted, 'as clear as the glass but holding nothing'.

One thing had changed ho-wever, because this time there w^ere swirling lights in his vision. A faint pinprick of brightness came from the right.

He bade his eyes to follow this light 'v^^th all the concentration of a surgeon' (he mentally laughed at that, although not sure why) and then slid his eyes open a tiny fraction.

Hospital,

What struck his view was 'hospital' down to a T. The off lime green of the walls. The wide wooden frame of the door, to permit easy wheelchair entry. The metal end bars protruding from the side of the bed. And that oh so pungent sanitary smell.

That ever-humming, half-burnt out neon light was going to take one really quick trip to light-bulb hell if it didn't shut up real soon!'

So it did; perhaps due to the unified theory of science or perhaps due to the fact that a hand switched it off, but the hum did quit.

"Well Mr. Samprass, how is our lovely vegetable today?"

'1 bet he's not talking about how his garden grows' was his mind's first rebuttal. His second would have been better had he not realized a vital piece of information. His name was Samprass.

He dug within the depths of his recessed memory and came up with Corey. Samprass Core)^

"Still the same as ever, Corey boy. I don't know why they don't just put you out and use you as manure for the daisies! I mean, a lot better than wasting someone's money in high security. Ah well, if ya's got the greenbacks, ya rides that ferris wheel!"

A guffaw filled the room. "I'll be back with your portable, pointy dream buddy in a couple of hours Corey. Have fun!"

The cobwebs began clearing from his mind as he snapped up every word this bumpkin said. His name was Corey Samprass. He was in a high security ward of a hospital, possibly a prison hospital or an institution. He didn't think he was crazy - 'although,' he thought, 'crazy people never do.'

His head began to hurt as 'Joe the Schlunkhead' left the room.

These people are sedating me!' came his now flowing thoughts. "These people are sedating me, so I must be capable of escaping.'

Another fact kindly distinguished itself for him. 'I've got two hours before they put me back into la-la land. I've I got to get the hell out of here.'

A choked sound escaped his mouth, vaguely reminiscent of a laugh, as he thought 'Mission Impossible.' He remembered he loved that TV show.

*^4.**«4.***««4,4,*4, 414, 4,«4i^4„^ 4,^4^^

cont'd on page 5.

medium II 5th annual

■'■'■■■SWWS'"'

%itttat^

King of Shadows continued.

(

A corridor in a much different place, with much different people...

The Council convenes out of order. Brother."

A crimson hooded figure nodded, as the two figures walked side by side down the long steel grey corridor, their strides perfectly in unison.

The corridor was devoid of any ornaments, with only a massive set of teal blue columns separating the steel grey conformity. On them were intricate carvings that somehow seemed to change in pattern with each passing second.

"Balazar totum inequis" were the words spoken by the pair now standing in front of the shifting pillars.

"Axanthium!" was the response that echoed out of nowhere, yet was present everywhere.

The two figures walked into the columns, then through them, entering a chamber that strangely seemed enormous. The two sank to their knees immediately, crouched forward enough that the lip of their cowl grazed the transparent floor.

Seated (no, not seated - rather floating) in a semi-circle were five similarly clad people. Their hooded cloaks were jet black, although the one floating in the centre had a silver band looped around the base of the neck, with the sash trailing down to the floor.

A sound came out, breaking the silence after a short time. "Rise temporal P-3 Guardians."

One of the hunched figures shuddered as he rose. In the faintest whisper he exhaled The highest Ones neuer speak the base tongue."

"SILENCE!" the centre robed silhouette hissed. "Attend my words carefully Guardians. There is a vortex in your continuum, at P-3 Era One Nine Upper High. A bubble has formed and must be eliminated or permanently neutralized."

Now the other kneeling crimson robed figure began to tremble, an action not lost amongst the floating five.

"You have reason to be discontent. He is a prime being, aind may use his abilities as such, yet the form is inferior, and unaware. The paradox keeps him safe, but in so lies his doAvnfall. Neutralize him immediately!"

The pair nodded vehemently.

The room then became deathly silent, devoid of any motion - frozen

like a portrait.

"We are between. Brothers."

A chorus of voices broke out all at once as they queried repeatedly the same questions.

"How did this come-"

"Why-"

"The paradox is in danger-"

The queries eventually died down and stopped.

"Brothers, concentrate. Disarray will tear down the mind slip."

"How can he affect the moment?" one voice finally asked.

"I know not," came the voice of the silver-lined figure. "The bubble distorts the stream. All that is clear is that it may exist to threaten the heart of the moment. Now, unite."

Suddenly, although nothing had moved, the portrait seemed to move forward again.

"The mission is clear. Temporal Guardians. Fail and you will cease.

The two swung their arms forward, arcing them to their chest and then immediately straight back out. locked sL-aight and extended

upward. The crimson robes then feU pooled on the crystal clear floor, leaving

only two faint wisps of smoke.

As the doctors gazed at the spectro-scope that Corey Samprass was hooked up to twice a day, they noted for the umpteenth time how random his thought patterns were. Officially Corey was a vegetable, unable to speak or move, however the medical worid was using him as a case study on how active the brain remains when all the motor skills are disfunctional. And Mr. Samprass was proving to be an extremely interesting patient. He seemed to alternate between thoughts of acute paranoia and visionary futuristic projections, sometimes so extreme that he blacked out. Doctor Mcllhenny couldn't help but wonder at how many Einsteins. or Asimov s were locked up in shells that science hadn't found the keys to yet.

I'm pushing deeper and deeper into my eyes

to complete tine search for my soul. The windows dre open but the sunlight is not

reaching my inner being. Yet onother obstdcle to overcome. A wall is blocking the sun from encompassing

my soul and giving it the nourishment it needs. Slowly, gently, the wormth weathers the wall

away And the two become one. You, my love, ore my sunshine dnd I am basking

in your rays of desire. The realization that my soul is surrounded by

needs only you can meet is reflected in The depth of mine eyes.

No concentration can be gained.

Not breathing a word, using only body

language . Their mate for life? For awhile

In my tongue, the word forever does not exist. In my soul, I must experience this

prolonged lover affair Before I can utter two words I lone to

whisper: Love Forever.

Engulfed in time, our thoughts race wildly. In a maze or in a crowd We can all be touched Our species, you and me, can withstand numerous punishments

But none so cruel as the effect of loneliness

^_ .

i 'The Depth of Mine Eyes ii' Foreuer iit-Loneliness

by Nancy Bilodeau

Morning Classes by Jean Guy

Intended sleep evades

Mind, body, soul

Tg^^iTrg desperate^^

Yeanling for esc^

[IFiin an immm^ coffin iW^t

^Ukm^^S^ knowledge*-"— «r^

Intrude upon our reverie

mzhfe'

*»f'l -n

?•

pmfi linual

!He is almost everyone 's friend

But not quite anyone 's,

everySody kriozus Him

Butfezv (qwzu his name;

harrnkss is the most commonly whispered adjective

(onCy the crueCest empCoy sad);

never quite drunfi

But never quite soBer,

aCmost as a courtesy to the other patrons:

an adequately BelievaBie e^usejor his 'Dizziness.

'Doiim 's Syndrome:

in the roundness of his face,

the sCightCy oBscured syntajc

and the immortaC grace of eagerness in his eyes;

not as pCeasant an epcphination

But truer than the alcohoC.

I tvatch him in the mirrored paneling,

my eyes puBCicCy fi^d on Lendi's ieft handed return of service;

embarrassed,

awk^ward,

too familiar

xvithout the e?ccuse he never offers.

1 :55 AM

Not a Uictim

by Sean Plummer

Walk on rose petals, Smell a sweetness In the air. Ground is rocky, Hard on out feet. Trees loom over, Sheltering us. Hot sand covers Our path. Raindrops fall, Artificial cry. Sunshine melts us, Warm and safe. Darkness snares us, Dungeon of hate. Peace and freedom. Hands hold Others close. Carry guns. Separating us From them. Wounds opened, Walk on blood.

I writ the c i I feel t i ons . I f rag rile Craw I , I I eau n I 33 I s R I one t oke with n own . If lov rile Lie, d I 'n ho ago i n paper . I f dep depres SHE IS I n her fine, r II w If I g to the ye3, b surrog fast f I 'm 21

e, I I i ght , garet t e t hat ' s in 03 if all t hese t

e i 3 after anger, all it I o^.'e for a squ i rm , rat tie, I e, I breath, the c 3auga road ago i n . ago i n - great , I c

Iiage \1

by John Giroux

my mouth .

h i ngs are automa-

what is after rage? namesake .

Ml play the snake . old n i ght air on

an drink, smoke and o one's eonscience to harass ne but ny

e is after like, w all it depress i on own, further, forg ne, I'm a I one with no company or

ression is after I

s i on?

nood again, these days it suits her

hat is after I ove? for a namesake . et , take .

girl, just a pen and

cue, what is after

rite out energy fr o baekwards will I

place where I was ut she won't be th ate, so I'll cont i orward i ng . I'm 19

and she 's 19. Oh

om a f ormu la n i nd .

event ua I I y come

born? Techn i ca I I y ere, j ust soae nue ask i ng and

she's 21, wait,

well.

PeStirdlBedting

a field of flowers beauty emphasized in their monotony

yet celebrated

in their uniqueness

each of us

a blossom

waiting to be picked

by M. Rabbabeau

"M'"'U'V"^»T

^uppl^m^nt

liage \]1

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

by Jean Guy Pierre Andre Philippe Marc Michel Francois Stephane Smith

medium ff 5th annual

XiUt^tV

He was driving home from work looking extremely glum, knowing that indulging in self-pity was unwarranted. After all, he had a comfortable job, a nice car, a spacious house, and a wife to share it all with. Still, he couldn't seem to shake his inner sadness.

As he made the turns that carried him towards suberbia, done almost mechanically, out of habit cultivated by years of repetition, he pondered how ironic life was. Superficially he had it quite good, but the little things were starting to add up; things like the large auto repair bill the mechanic had handed him earlier in the day, and the meeting this afternoon with his banker to take out a second mortgage to make his next house payment. And worst of all, he was passed over for a promotion at work which he figured he was a shoo-in for. The

more he thought about it the more irate he grew. He tried to narrow it down, but no matter how hard he dissected his problems he couldn 't quite put his finger on the true cause of his malease. As he absent mindedly turned onto his street he barely noticed the kids playing and had to slam on the brakes to avoid them. He regretted cursing at them - they were simply part of a chain of events - but that didn't help improve his frame of mind.

As he pulled into his driveway he noticed his wife's car missing, and it suddenly dawned on him what was really bothering him. It was his fortieth birthday and she had not even wished him happy birthday as he left in the morning, nor had she called him at the office. Now

she was not home to share what little of it remained. The day's events finally took their toll and he angrily slammed the car door and stalked up the driveway towards the dark house.

Just as he got to the door and was checking for mail he noticed a furtive movement behind the bay window curtains. Being in the state of mind he was, his first thought was of the rash of break-ins lately in the neigh- ^ bourhood. He furi-

POSSESSEd.

( an awakenip}^^^. Journey into fa^mm/i swim among the's'ffye^ see the hanging|&to|^ witness all thetpS^te^S

ously barged in, in- tent on protecting his home at all costs, making straight for the kitchen knives to support his bravado. He reached out to turn on the lights, and his hand touched someone else's. Fear gripping him, he slashed out at the in- truder, his mind reel- ing with confusion when he heard a woman's scream. Quickly turning on the lights he stared in horror at the body of his wife lying in a pool of blood while all of their friends shouted "Surprise!"

by Tom^^^^^ankiewicz

Then plunge vou^JmgM[pf?s which have the mj^^^N^^'''^ run into the liahtlo^S and touch the erffl^^^ then swim into Si of coloured win storm the groung leave your face within or in the lucidity of past sorrows

and dance and tl| all emotion is o die.

Wither, wither §

fall into empti

subconscious

fill the vastnes

I remain on

with clouds....

1 sleep when yo

I'm a soul under^

I'm in power of my pri"ae I'm the master of sublime ( A fall into a dream ) I return with the

key

the product or your genes am the only medium of your sleep

Don't reach in to kill me Don't try to touch me

iBlilipll

liiiiiiiiillll

page

Mirage

I subdued the image

found that I can

write despite the feeling

that poems a soul possess,

I stood upon my legs

and called upon the clouds

to send down flooding rain

and thunderbolts of angered

wise men and

their loyal chamberlains

cause I have touched the sacred image of the world - forgotten, unwanted not searched for ... What we have created for ourselves to others is unclear strangles our throats pulls toward deceit by the rock linked to our feet. We pull it along thinking that we are blessed in our suffering. It's a lie that we will die once we abandon our small form which does not fit us that we will perish among the winds of languor the cold of the faces surrounding us. Only a look

straight into the eyes and they could recognize that I am not dead

but am I alive ?

Where lies the point

of blinding illumination ?

Is it among philosophy

the wealth of nations ?

Where lies the vision

of our Being

travelling through

transcendentalism ?

Where is the exit

and where is the entrance ?

Here the mind and heart fail me

I can't find the answer

no gates are left open.

I'm a dilettante

trying to seduce the beauty

-Art

to find if she's

still a virgin.

I'm like an abashed

bridegroom before a wedding

not knowing who will stand

with me at the altar.

I don't even believe

in my foolish writing ...

Do they have any sense

these memoirs of passion

born in frustration

for my questions

don't receive an answer.

Does anybody need this ?

Does it help my being ?

It hurts me very deep

please understand

it is not a blessing

or talent

given by the gods

or by Him,

It's a curse

to have the heart of a

dead man

who on the day of his death

has seen the truth

but can't understand it ...

Not able to grasp

why he goes through life

afraid

and running after

the world

( where ? it is unknown )

to stop it

drive it off its course

so it can escape the embrace

of the hypocritical Scylla

and the languish Charybdis

and to abandon the image

constructed in its journey

of materials that break

unable to express

its pure soul

longing for freedom -

thinking that patterns

and their alikeness

are the models of virtue

zenith of truth.

Why am I running ?

I don't know for sure ...

Is it the fighter's

or coward's spirit

that tells me to

fight without a weapon

defend without guard

emerge as a fool

without a cause.

Sy Tomasz SlzucCankiezuicz

Six Is Comp I et e

by Nancy Bilodeau

Outside the wind recklessly scattered the brittle leaves, causing faint, high-pitched scrapings against the windows of the one room shack-. Relentless wind whistled through the cracks, forcing Diana to pull her flimsy shawl closer around her. She sat in the dark and waited, for she could do nothing else. The old woman had become a frail shell in the last few long hours. Her power had failed, the phone dead. The wind had picked up and began to howl. All she could do was wait and listen to the shrieking wind. He was behind this. What did he want? She could stand the empty blackness no longer. She raised herself unsteadily from the stiff wooden chair. Her arms extended, she clumsily made her way to the back of the shack where she kept provisions, hoping to find a stem of a candle. Out of habit she groped the air for the familiar light chain and with a dull click came the breaking of glass. Diana's head snapped towards the sound. He was here but was he alone? She stumbled across the baseball bat she had bought for her grandson and her grip was tight, her wrinkled knuckles white. She stood motionless only to hear many footfalls. There was nowhere to run. Their steps filled her ears and the howl of the wind faded. Chanting and inscence filled her senses. They would be in their familiar long black robes, red eyes glowing out from their hoods that hid their faces so well. Five pairs of eyes found her hypnotised by their chanting and with the distant cry of the owl, there were six pairs of red eyes.

Wednesday 3

The Duck Presents

Our Dance Party and Wing Night

Free Admission Vi/iN6S ONLY 150

Thursday

THE PENULTIMATE PUB

Doors Open 7:30pm

Preparing for the final

Friday 5

The Rowing Club presents

THE R0IVIN6 CLUB PUB

Doors open 7:30pm

FIRST YEAR STUDENTS

Trying to choose a program? Get the inside scoop!

ADVISOH.

Call Jennifier at ECSU for the name of an Advisor.

The Graditudc

Campaign

is herd

If you are interested

in helping out with.

this great cause, or

\sromd like more

information, call

Jacqueline at ECSU.

S2»S249

We need your help to

make this work! There

will be a prize for the

most pledges raised.

ORIENTATION '91

Positions of:

Leaders &

Floaters

Avaiiabie.

Apply NOW at the ECSU office!

QnaJUudUiH, 1991

at tUe> Hodfoi yo^ eMotel

$50 p£^ fte/UJO^^f

LATE NIGHT SHUTTLE 3U5

Laavas Erindale at 2'!b0 pm, \eavee 5t. Georq^e at 10:50 pm. Cost per trip \e $2.50, 1 pink or 2 ovavxqe tlckete.

medium II

page 8 , Monday, April 1, 1991 , medium II

SPORTS

24th ECARA banquet

by Peter Skov

On Saturday, March 23, more than 175 staff, students and faculty attended the 24th annual ECARA Banquet at the Blind Duck Pub. The banquet gave ECARA and The Depart- ment of Athletics and Recrea- tion an opportunity to recog- nize and reward the contribu- tion that students have made to the athletic program at Erindale College.

After a buffet dinner it was time to present the awards. Starting the evening off was Peter Skov who welcomed everyone and introduced some of the guests that were in at- tendance. Among these distin- guished guests were Principal Desmond Morton; Dr. Ian McGregor, Director of Athlet- ics at U. of T.; Dean Peter Silcox; Mr. Bud Taggert, Chief Administrative Officer at Erindale College; Ms. Holly Benson, Director of Campus Development and Public Af- fairs, and Mr. Peter Baxter, the Director of Athletics at Erindale College. Also introduced were the members of the 1990-91 ECARA council.

After the winning teams of the intramural leagues were

announced, the award for Intra- mural Athlete in their Graduat- ing Year was presented to Mike Trigani. Several students were recognized for their contribu- tions to refereeing and coaching. Lino Toncic, Hani Mitri and Jack Krist were given Coach of the Year awards, a new award this year. Winning Referee of the Year awards were Joe Kovacic, Gogi Grewal, Jack Krist and Vince Caricari. ECARA lapel pins were given to the male and female student in each year who accumulated the most ECARA points. Winners were Affik Choudhury, Ifran Shaw, Jason Mazaris, Brent Johnston, Tracey So, Melissa Jazbec, Michelle Power and Marina Colautti.

The Athletic "E" award is given to the student who has earned 50 ECARA points. At this year's banquet, there were 22 "E" awards presented, showing the high level of stu- dent involvement at Erindale . For the Special "E" a student must earn 100 points. Jennifer Alls, Mark Godfrey, Jack Krist and Steve Marando all accom- plished this admirable feat. Leslie Trounce accumulated 200 points over 4 years and was

presented with the Award of Excellence. Considering that a student can earn 5 points for an intramural sport and 10 points for an interfaculty sport.this is a remarkable accomplishment.

Mr. David Connell, the Deputy Director of Athletics, presented the Administrative award, given to the student who exhibits outstanding leadership in the athletic program. This year marks the final year of the award due to the change in the role of the student in athletics. The award was given to 9 stu- dent members of the 1990-91 ECARA council in recognition of their efforts in producing an outstanding athletic program for students . The final 2 awards of the evening were the J. Tuzo Wilson Trophy, for the male student in his graduating year who has made an outstanding contribution to the athletic program, and the J J. Rae Tro- phy, for the female student who has done the same. The award recipients were Tony Zekl and Leslie Trounce.

After the awards were pre- sented, the banquet became a party with music and dancing. Erindale's athletic community took the opportunity to celebrate their accomplishments.

The first annual Ball Hockey Pub raised $260.00 for cancer.

A new tradition

by Michelle Szakos

On Wednesday , March 27 the first annual Ball Hockey Pub was held at the Blind Duck. It was a night for the players to forget past fights and have a good time with all the other teams. Division I champions the Timberwolves were avidly watching the big screen which was playing the tape of their victory over Punjab A.

The first awards were the MVPs for the Women's Divi- sion. The next awards were for Men's Division B, botti Simpsons and Bundys. The Division A awards were the last

to be given out, with Jim Romanko winning team MVP for the still gloaung Timberwolves. Winners of the Division MVP awards were Barb Kilner of Horah's Harem, Scott Betts from the Survey Slashers for Division B, and Jim Romanko for Division A. The lastaward was the "Broken Stick Award," which was awarded to the player with the most penalty minutes and least points. Mark Zucchet was the sole candidate for this one, hav- ing 22 penalty minutes and 2 points. The niglii was a suc- cess as $260.00 was raised for the Canadian Cancer Society.

Rower's Club Pub

at the Blind Duck

Friday April 5 Starts at 7:00pm Admission $3.00

Come out and support the Erindale CoUege Rowing Club

BECAUSE

You haven't partied,

till you've partied with a rower!!!

WOMEN

DIV I Soccer: Christina Tung

Div II Soccer: Sheryl Davis

Field Hockey: Pat^i Malone

Flag Football: Mina Gill

Innertube Waterpolo: Rekha Trembath

Div I Basketball; Jackie Green

Div II Basketball: Lubna Syed

Div lA Volleyball: Jackie Green

Div IB Volleyball; Christine Holobowski

Div il Volleyball; Carolyn Stewart

Ice Hockey: Mona Jones

Heavy Weight jRowing: Janet Mockler

Lightweight RowingL: Catbrine Murray

MEN

Div I Soccer- Ken Tan

Div U Soccer- Dan Robertson

Div II Rugby- Don Roughley

Tackle Football:

Defense- Steve Bulut

Offense- Sanjay. Mehta

Lineman- Kevin Black

Div I Basketball- Chris Morgan

Div II Basketball- Eric Petemell

Div III Basketball- Steve Ryan

Div I Hockey- Dave Matheson

Div II Hockey- Sbane Devereaux

Div I Volleyball- Ernie Schroeder

Div II Volleyball- Sebastijan Zupanec

Div I Squash- John Seaga

Div 11 Sqash- Nicholas Lee

Waterpolo- Andy Csedei

Heavyweight Rowing- Pascal Barras

Lightweight Rowing- Craig Haslett